


You Will Live Forever

by apliddell



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Hurt and comfort, Illness, M/M, lamen, wump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apliddell/pseuds/apliddell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen nurses Laurent through a serious illness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Will Live Forever

The fever had been on Laurent for two days. His eyes were glassy, and his hair stuck to his neck, straggled in his flushed face. Paschal had seen him and declared that he would likely recover from the infection if he could outlive the fever. If. The word stuck in Damen’s throat like a jagged stone. 

Laurent would have no one but Damen to nurse him. Damen wrapped him in chilled cloths, administered the draughts Paschal mixed, changed his sweaty bedding, and coaxed him to eat, one mouthful of broth at a time. 

Laurent woke in a candlelit haze (early morning or early evening, it was difficult to say) to find Damen weeping over his hand. Laurent raised his hand and cupped Damen’s jaw. Damen started, sighed, wiped his face covertly on the bed clothes. 

Laurent said, “I’m not going to die.” Damen nodded, his head still lowered. “I don’t think you believe me, Damianos. I’m not going to die. All that time before I met you, I never did. And this is a much better preservative than spite.” 

“What is?” Damen rasped, raising his face at last. 

“This,” Laurent stroked Damen’s cheek. Brushed away tears with his hot hand. 

“Then you will live forever.” 

“I think I shall,” Laurent answered, as if accepting a glass of wine. “If you will.”

Damen pressed Laurent’s hand, kissed it, “You have a bargain.” 

Damen woke some time later to find Laurent leaning on one elbow and looking down into his face. 

Laurent said, “Tell me you didn’t hear me singing.” 

Damen couldn’t help grinning, “If I say I didn’t, will you do it again?”

“You ought to be entertaining me. This is my sickbed, you usurping barbarian.” 

Damen laughed and pressed his palm to Laurent’s cheek. Cool and dry. “I know you must be feeling better, when you get romantic like that.” 

“I can muster all kinds of pet epithets for you, Damen. But yes. Much improved.” Damen sighed and opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes pricked and ran, and he could not. Laurent leaned in and kissed his tears as they fell. “All right,” he said. “Don’t cry, Damianos. I’ll sing.


End file.
